[Alhaitham leans back in his chair, taking a deep drag from his cigarette. The smoke curls up toward the ceiling as he exhales, and he watches the tendrils dissipate, memories of that night unfurling in his mind. Berating himself now wouldn't accomplish anything, but he knows he got carried away. He should have pushed Kaveh away after the first kiss, if not the second. He should have left him home, driven him to his neighbourhood, or paid for a cab. Yet, he hadn't.
Instead, he remembers the warmth of Kaveh's arms wrapped around his neck, the arch of his body, and how he admitted to loneliness even amidst the donations, viewers, and university popularity. Alhaitham recalls Kaveh's whispered confessions, the way he admitted to having a crush on a person he'd never seen but trusted. And despite the heated accusations that followed the morning after, he'd seen the vulnerable side of Kaveh, the side that wanted him and wrapped around him.
He takes another drag, slowly savoring the nicotine, before stubbing the cigarette out in an ashtray and refocusing on the screen. Kaveh's frustration, his anger, is palpable, and it hits Alhaitham harder than expected.]
user2.718: That sounds frustrating. user2.718: Criticism can sting, especially when it's the first thing someone says to you. user2.718: I don't think you're stupid, Pharos. Making out with someone after a shitty day isn't wrong.
[Alhaitham's fingers pause over the keys, remembering Kaveh's confession about the crush. He wants to reassure him that he hadn't done anything wrong, that he wasn't to blame for the events of that night. He continues typing.]
user2.718: You really didn't do anything wrong.
[He knows he needs to tread carefully, to not push too hard or reveal his own identity. Instead, he sticks to the facts and tries to validate Kaveh's feelings.]
user2.718: But if working together is uncomfortable, perhaps you shouldn't have to. Maybe maintaining some distance would help. user2.718: In a professional setting, a compromise could be reached.
[He hesitates, considering the implications of his next question, but it's necessary.]
user2.718: Do you think you should report him?
[It's an objective question, yet he asks it with genuine concern. If Kaveh feels genuinely uncomfortable, Alhaitham would rather see him take steps to protect himself than endure unnecessary stress.]
user2.718: He shouldn't be making you feel like this.
[Alhaitham leans back again, fingers steepled together. He knows he can't undo what's already happened, but he hopes his words can provide some measure of comfort, if not clarity. There's a pang of guilt and regret, knowing he's the source of Kaveh's frustration, but he remains focused on offering support. He’s torn between the empathy of Mister E and the objectivity of Alhaitham, straddling a line that grows blurrier with each passing interaction.]
user2.718: I'm really sorry you're going through this.
[ After such an impassioned rant, there's muted silence on Pharos's end as user2.718's replies start to come in, comforting him, reminding him he didn't do anything wrong, acknowledging his frustrations and discomfort; and he should feel relieved, encouraged, but somehow the feeling that settles on him is guilt, as if in the midst of this whole thing he's somehow betrayed his Mister E, Mister E who remains nice and kind and thoughtful towards him as always. He feels tears stinging the corners of his eyes, blinking furiously to try and rid himself of them before they can fall, and focusing on the words that continue to come in as a form of distraction, and—
He sighs, and bites his lip. Is he being as honest as he should? It's true that he was drunk, but in the mixed and muddled memories of the night, he does know he imagined E in Alhaitham's place, imagined he could hear that deep voice saying the sweet words that appear in text on the screen in front of him. He can't report someone when he was an all-too-willing participant, drunk or no.
After a moment, he shakes his head. ]
I can't report him... I was the one who approached him, and I know I was drunk, but...
[ His eyes close as he sighs again, and unbeknownst to him, a tear slips free to glimmer on his eyelashes, remaining in place even as his eyes open again in the next moment.
It's Mister E. He said Kaveh can tell him anything. ]
If I'm honest, Mister E, I was thinking about you. I was drunk, and horny, and as much of an asshole as he is, he's so smart, the same way you are. It made it easy for me to imagine that he... that you were... you know. [ A faint hint of pink creeps across his cheeks. ] I know that's stupid. You're a customer, I shouldn't be thinking about you like that. I'm sorry. You said I deserve to be respected but... it wasn't respectful of me to imagine you in that moment, either.
[ They've veered a little away from the rest of what user2.718 was talking about, putting boundaries in place at work, but he's not really thinking about that, right now, not when the other's kindness has caused the heaviness of guilt to weigh painfully on his chest. ]
[Alhaitham watches the screen intently, reading Pharos's heartfelt admission. It's not something he hadn't already suspected, but hearing it confirmed strikes him deeply. He exhales, running a hand through his hair and leaning back in his chair. Despite the smoke from his stubbed-out cigarette still lingering around the room, he feels the weight of Pharos's words, heavy with guilt and uncertainty.]
user2.718: Pharos, it's alright. You're not alone in this.
[He types carefully, knowing how sensitive the admission must have been for Kaveh. He leans closer to the screen, fingers flying over the keys.]
user2.718: I have imagined something similar. user2.718: In my own encounters, I've thought about you.
[It's not quite right, but he's not lying. As he had pressed Kaveh into the mattress in his room, he had thought about Kaveh and Pharos as an altogether entity. Alhaitham's heart quickens at the honesty of his words, at how close they come to revealing the truth of that night. He continues typing.]
user2.718: You're not alone in feeling like this, and I know what it's like. It can feel complicated and messy, but it's alright.
[He pauses, remembering when Kaveh wrapped his arms around him. The kiss had been impulsive, heated, and filled with the kind of passion he never expected. And though he can't say it outright, he hopes this next part will convey his understanding.]
user2.718: If you think you've disrespected me, then I'm equally guilty. user2.718: But these feelings don't make you bad or disrespectful, not to me.
[ He's starting to whip himself up into a frenzy of panic, feeling the need to explain each and every little part of the situation— what ends up stopping him is the next group of messages that comes through from user2.718. Words of comfort once again, but also— ]
Oh.
[ There's a lot to take away from what the other has said. There's the jealousy, for one, the strange churn in his stomach at the thought of someone else having the chance to be with his Mister E. But also the knowledge, bittersweet, that the other thought of him in much the same way he did. And he wonders what Mister E would be like as a lover... surely, he thinks, as gentle and thoughtful as he is in text, all guiding hands and searching kisses, and—
That pink darkens on his cheeks, Pharos biting his lip as he looks quietly into the camera for a moment or two. There's a part of him desperate to take off his mask, to let Mister E see the whole of his face, the person he really is. But being a teacher of all things holds him back— he trusts Mister E, but all it would take is a single leaked image...
Instead, he fiddles with the necklace, something that's apparently a habit of his when he's feeling a little nervous, and runs fingers through his hair as he laughs breathlessly. ]
I want—
[ And oh, how dangerously close he comes to saying he wants to meet him. (Tighnari is going to kill him...!) Kaveh takes a breath, steadies himself. ]
Remember when you asked if I've ever suffered from basorexia? I'm suffering from it right now, Mister E.
[Alhaitham watches Kaveh's reaction on the screen, the nervous laughter, and the way his fingers toy with the necklace and run through his hair. The earnest desire in Kaveh's voice echoes back in Alhaitham's mind as he contemplates how to respond. It's strange how his words, carefully typed behind the mask of Mister E, can comfort and draw Kaveh closer so easily. Yet, Alhaitham knows that if he were to speak as himself, Kaveh would see the empathy as suspicious, dismissing it immediately.
He recalls their interactions at work, and how the dynamic shifts when they become user2.718 and Pharos. The difference is stark, and he realizes that despite his mastery of language and rhetoric, there is an undeniable gap that can only be bridged through this digital persona.
But now, hearing Kaveh's admission that he wants to kiss him and is suffering from basorexia, Alhaitham feels a pang of longing. His fingers hover over the keyboard, contemplating the implications of revealing his identity. Could Kaveh handle it? Could he? Would it lead to the connection they both long for, or would it shatter everything they've built?
The risk is too high. Even as a streamer and viewer, it's not a step to take lightly. They both need this space, this comfort, and it's something Alhaitham can't jeopardize. Kaveh needs this more than he does.]
user2.718: I wish I could kiss you, too. user2.718: I hope this conversation gives you some comfort, though.
[It's the truth, after all. Despite the complicated nature of their connection, Alhaitham knows his feelings are genuine, and he wants Kaveh to understand that he's not alone in this yearning.
He pauses, considering how to balance vulnerability and reassurance. He doesn't want to overpromise, nor does he want Kaveh to feel pressured.]
user2.718: Just know that I'm here for you, and that your feelings are valid. You're not alone in this.
[ His voice is a little softer than he would like, the vulnerability creeping in despite his best efforts even as the other offers him comfort and assurance that he's not alone in his feelings. The whole thing feels like a mess of epic proportions, like a maze that he just can't find his way out of no matter how hard he tries. He's tied them up in a never-ending rope and now he can't unpick the knots, and—
Gods, Kaveh's not sure he's ever wanted someone so much, and they haven't even met—
(But what if they met?) ]
...You should pick one of my toys.
[ The statement comes out abruptly, sounding perhaps like it was said instead of something else waiting on the tip of his tongue
(because it was, because all Kaveh can think about is wanting to take off his mask, wanting to meet him in person, wanting to do something so totally unsafe it's not even worth dreaming about)
and he gestures to the collection placed, as usual, along the desk in front of him. His smile, even as it trembles, is real. ]
I'll give you a good show, Mister E. You can fuck me however you want.
[He sees Kaveh's trembling smile and the gesture toward the collection of toys on the desk. The request is a return to their established routine, and Alhaitham recognizes it as a way for Kaveh to ground himself. Picking a toy is a step back into their comfort zones, a reminder of the safety this space provides them both.
But Alhaitham can’t ignore the longing that settles deep in his chest. He knows it's not just the thrill of the performance or the allure of the fantasy. It's Kaveh, the person behind the mask. The one who challenges him intellectually and emotionally. The one who frustrates him and fascinates him in equal measure. Alhaitham knows he’s pining for Kaveh just as much as Pharos yearns for Mister E.
His desire to close the distance between them remains, but he knows this is the best way to protect what they have. He takes a breath, accepting that this virtual intimacy, however fragmented and complicated, will have to be enough.]
user2.718: The cockring. user2.718: But nothing else. user2.718: I'd like you to use your fingers today.
[ It's safer, offering himself this way, Kaveh thinks. It's what they're both accustomed to, a routine that he finds easy, safe. If he's lost in pleasure, he doesn't have to worry about saying something stupid, about risking his heart in some maneuver that could never benefit either of them.
(After all, Mister E says he's not alone in this, but there's no way he understands how readily Kaveh has thrown himself into these feelings, how often he thinks about him, how dangerously attached he has so quickly become.)
He's not quite expecting the answer he's given, his brows rising and his already-pink cheeks heating a little more, and he can't help the way a smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he shakes his head. ] You want me to give you a show today, huh? [ he says, and there's a tease in his voice. Of course, everything he does is a show for Mister E, but he remembers last time, pretending the toy was the man himself, talking about taking him deep and letting him cum inside— Not this time.
That smile stays on his lips as he gently lubes the ring and slips it on, twisting slightly so his single viewer can see the way it wraps his cock and balls before settling back on his seat, making sure he's giving a good view of his ass as he spreads his legs and lubes up his fingers too. ]
I'll give you the best show, Mister E. Tell me how you want me to do it.
[Well, this is definitely familiar, something they've done before. This is what Pharos has done plenty of other streams, as well, for his viewers, not for user2.718, not for the special Mister E—he shouldn't love that nickname so much, but here he is, feeling a thrum under his ribcage that gets him to itch to his cigarette pack, or through the screen.
But he knows Pharos now, he knows Kaveh, the person behind the persona. He remembers the sadness in his voice behind the anger directed at him, the frustration at Alhaitham not needing to be pleased, to welcome attrition, to embrace the bad of Kaveh that he's so not used to give.
Because it's the gist of it all, isn't it? They're both frustrated. He wonders if aside from the monetary need, if Pharos came to be because Kaveh was so, so tired of his own frustration. Tired of being tired.
He remembers how lonely his fingers had felt as they gripped at his back.]
user2.718: Lean back, and think of me caressing you. user2.718: I think I'd start with your pretty face. user2.718: Show me how you think I'd do it.
[ He's just about to start on what he thinks user2.718 wants from him when suddenly a message comes through not to lube his fingers just yet. As they're already slick, he wipes them off on a cloth he keeps to the side for exactly that, and then tilts his head to the side in curiosity, leaning forward and watching the screen as he waits for the rest of the other's instructions to come in.
think of me caressing you, the screen says, and Kaveh's reasonably sure that his heart does the impossible and skips several beats. He smiles sweetly, and his hands lift, eyes closing briefly as they touch one side of his face and then the other, fingers dragging against the skin before coming to cradle his own cheeks the way he imagines Mister E would, treating him with the gentleness he craves so badly.
What he doesn't realize is that he's been held like this before,
and by Alhaitham, of all people.
His eyes open, a small smile on his lips as one thumb swipes over them, mimicking actions he can so clearly imagine the other taking. ]
[Exactly. Exactly like that. Alhaitham knows how much he wanted to do the same, how he did the same, holding Kaveh's face between his hands and stroking his lips before he kissed him, slow and deep and feeding into his need like oil in a flame, flaring uncontrollably.
Of course, it only means for Kaveh that it felt good, to be touched in the same way, it would be only natural to find himself wanting it again. He holds Mister E in such a high regard, that he knows he'd touch him in a way that would please Pharos.
The layers to this are immense and numerous. Pharos wishes for Mister E to touch him in the way that Alhaitham touched Kaveh. Only that Pharos doesn't know that they're both the same person. It would feel almost silly if Alhaitham wasn't aware that he barely revealed anything about himself as user2.718.]
user2.718: It seems that you like that. user2.718: Can you imagine me kissing you? user2.718: Where would my hands go next? Your neck? Your hair?
[ His content is a pleased sigh, eyes soft and dreamy as they meet the camera's lens, as his fingers keep tracing over his own skin in all the ways Alhaitham did during their short time together. It's not deliberate at all; in fact, with his attention so focused on what Mister E is asking of him, he doesn't realize that he's doing it. But he's been touched like this before, and he liked it more than he realizes.
Maybe it's because of the gentleness inherent in the act; perhaps instead if's who it was, or who he dreamed it might be.
Maybe, deep down, it's all of the above.
He smiles at user2.718's continued statements, nods his acknowledgement— he does like it— and his eyes close briefly once more, teeth pressing into his lower lip in response to the phantom sensation of an imagined kiss. He sighs again, and nods. ]
Yeah.. I can imagine it. How do you kiss, Mister E? Are you gentle? Or do you like to take charge?
[ Even as he asks it, his eyes open to see the next question, and his smile broadens slightly; he answers with the movement of his hands, one lifting up to thread in his own hair as the other moves to cup at the side of his neck. He hums again at the soft sensation. It's easy to imagine his hands are the other's, touching and exploring him as he wants. ]
user2.718: I believe there's a time and place for everything.
[Although most of the kisses they had shared were hot, heavy, some of the care on Alhaitham's fingers had translated into softness, but also moving Kaveh's eagerness around into something smoother, yet still heady. He needs to take a deep breath at the sight of Pharos so beautifully blissful at his imagination, at the memory of how difficult it was for him to expand his lungs to draw in air, when he only wanted to dive back into Kaveh's lips.
He swallows something hard in his throat.]
user2.718: You look so good like that. user2.718: Would you want me to be soft? Or would you like my fingers to dig deeper into you?
[He chews on his lip thoughtfully. Then sends a message that may make the fantasy go a bit further.]
user2.718: Can you imagine yourself on my lap? user2.718: Leaning back against me. user2.718: And me whispering in your ear. user2.718: Asking how else do you want me to touch you?
[ A time and place for everything, user2.718 replies, and Kaveh can imagine him both ways: kissing him hard and passionate, tongue tangling and tasting; kissing him soft and sweet, making his heart flutter in his chest. Both are enough to have the blonde let out a soft, trembling sigh, eyes half-lidded even as he looks at the screen for the rest of the other man's words. ]
Mm... today I think I want you to be soft, [ he whispers. ] Prove that he's wrong about you.
[ Of course, he hasn't told Mister E what Alhaitham said about him, but he's not thinking about that right now. He's too distracted, leaning back harder into his chair and shuffling slightly as if getting comfortable against another person, biting his lip at the phantom sensation of words in his ear, pleasured shivers rushing down his spine. ]
I can. Mister E, are you starting to get hard? Or is my imagination just going overtime, hm?
[ A soft laugh, and then as the other asks his last question, Kaveh imagining the words breathed into his ear, he adds: ]
Would you play with my piercing a little? And... mm, and maybe tease me a little.
user2.718: Then, I will be gentle. user2.718: I'll take care of you.
['To prove that he's wrong', there are so many odd things about that statement. One, that Alhaitham is not wrong about Mister E, not exactly. Just because the bar is on the floor doesn't mean that the benchmark that he settles isn't low. And secondly, that Kaveh would defend a stranger so adamantly, for the sake of an image of the person that he thinks E is.
He takes a deep breath.
It's not an entire leap to imagine Kaveh writhing on top of him, leaning back, the planes of his chest arching with gasps and sighs as he arches further into him, the tension to his spine as Alhaitham whispered into his ear.
Pharos, he needs to remind himself. This is Pharos. And he's Mister E.
It pangs on his chest harder than he'd like. But all he can do for now is accept that.
His fingers fly over the keyboard.]
user2.718: So are you. user2.718: I've only kissed you and caressed your face. user2.718: How can I not, when you feel so good against me? user2.718: That piercing looks so good on you. user2.718: Does it hurt when you pinch it? user2.718: Stroke and knead your thigh. user2.718: Go slow, from your knee upwards.
[ He can't help but sigh again in response to those words. What Mister E tells him is that he's taken care of, that he's cared for. And maybe Alhaitham sees the bar as being so low it's on the floor, but to Kaveh's mind, he's being treated so well, so kindly— even kinder than someone like him deserves.
(In reality, perhaps it's not even that he thinks so highly of Mister E— but more how lowly he thinks of himself.)
He's obedient, pinching at the piercing and then hissing softly as his chest arches into it, a shake of his head as his eyes seek the camera once more. ]
Mm, it doesn't really hurt. It feels good, Mister E. But.. honestly, everything you do feels good. Even you just caressing my face and kissing me... it's not that weird that I'm starting to get hard, right?
[ His laugh is sweet, breathless as he defends himself, as he lowers the same hand to his knee and starts so slowly to stroke over his own thigh, still leaning back to make sure his Mister E has the best possible view of him as he does. White fingerprints appear briefly in the skin as he squeezes and kneads, and as his hand creeps higher he sighs, biting his lip and letting his eyes flutter closed again. ]
Mm, this would be easier if I could hear you for real, [ he laughs softly in the next moment, eyes opening again. ] Everything you're doing is so good I keep forgetting and closing my eyes.
[And gosh, if those eyes weren't his doom. Alhaitham sighs, settles back and unfastens the button of his slacks, his erection straining against his trousers and underwear. It's so easy, to know how Kaveh's breath tastes, how it feels when it skims over his skin. How he jolts when his piercing is flicked. It's like he's learning new things about him each time with Alhaitham.
And isn't that the strongest of aphrodisiacs, that exploration?]
user2.718: Don't worry so much about me. user2.718: I feel so good seeing you like this. user2.718: You wear pleasure like the finest gold. user2.718: Close your eyes and imagine me.
[Dangerous, dangerous grounds. Who is Pharos really imagining there?
[ Don't worry so much about me, says Mister E, and Kaveh wants to argue that that's silly, that of course he needs to worry about him, that he's only here for him; but the other continues, pointing out that it's good to see him in this way, and Kaveh supposes that for now that's enough. ]
Okay.
[ His voice is a whisper as his eyes close again, the fingers of that single hand continuing their teasing and tormenting of the skin so close to his own growing erection, kneading and exploring up and down each side one after the other, coming so close to touching himself without actually allowing himself the pleasure.
His other hand slides out of his hair, anchoring at his chest, toying and playing with the piercing until he's writhing under his own ministrations, breath short and sharp. And he's imagining it, imagining Mister E doing all of these things to him, for him, even if his brain transposes imagined sensation with feelings he's genuinely been granted at the hands of another—
His eyes open again as he whines softly under his own touch. ]
user2.718: Be patient for me. user2.718: You can do that, can’t you? user2.718: You’re being so good already.
[Many authors have written both prose and poetry about how worship and devotion was not without some sacrifice, not without some pain. Some parts of religion focus on that very side of things, which Alhaitham was forever a critic of.
Yet, seeing Pharos writhe under his fingers, and yet still yearning, voice and face contorted into pleasure, softening some of his features into rapture, deepening others as he navigates the heat within him. Alhaitham is not there, in Pharos’ streaming room, but he feels warm like Kaveh were to tilt his head and breathe into Alhaitham.
He’s reminded of statues, entangled together, their artists meticulously ensuring the characters’ fingers digging in a way their flesh bends, like they were the very same pads digging into the give of a softened material.
It struck him as odd, the idea of coveting those which you already have, and yet, now, he knows that he’d crave this man no matter how long he had him.
Maybe it’s a good thing he hates his guts.]
user2.718: Put your fingers in your mouth. user2.718: Can you get them nice and wet for me?
[ His breath catches to read Mister E's words, a reluctant nod his acquiescence to the other's request, his promise that he can be good, that he wants to be good for the other man. And so he continues, fiddling with his piercing and kneading the skin of his own thigh besides, his breath short with a mix of indulgence and desire, the want for that which he cannot have.
(Because even in the face of his crush is Mister E a figure insurmountable as much as he desired; someone with his wealth must have his life together in a way Kaveh doesn't, a way Kaveh can only dream; in the real world he probably wouldn't even look at him twice—)
Perhaps that's why he's so eager, nodding as he lifts his hand from his leg and sucks two fingers into his mouth. It's sloppy, the way he fucks his own mouth with them, tongue and lips working to wet them thoroughly, until the saliva is all but dripping messily from both mouth and fingers, his cock visibly twitching, straining in aching desire.
He'll do anything the other asks of him— and right now, he wants to make sure he has a good view as Pharos completes his request. ]
[The notion of unattainability sharpens this yearning into something almost exquisite in its pain. Kaveh sees Mister E as someone lofty, unattainable, an ideal figure carved from the very echelons of societal perfection that he himself feels so alienated from. It's an ironic mirroring of their real-world interactions, where Alhaitham is the unwanted intruder in Kaveh's well-ordered life and decisions, the critic who unwittingly wounds even as he seeks closeness.
Alhaitham is struck by the poignant beauty of his longing. The physical distance between them—a screen, miles, perhaps an entire world—magnifies every small act into a declaration, every whispered word into a confession. This digital divide, this relentless barrier, serves as sanctuary and prison both. It allows Alhaitham to worship without the messiness of reality intruding, to adore without the fear of rejection that daylight might bring. It allows Kaveh to free from inhibitions that he would place upon himself on his own. He can imagine that they are equals, that the vast gulf of their differences in status and security does not exist.
Alhaitham's mind wanders to the statues and paintings of old, where the yearning was palpable, the subjects forever frozen in a moment of eternal want. He feels akin to those figures now, caught in an everlasting reach towards something he can never fully grasp. And yet, there is beauty in the yearning itself, in the pure, unbridled desire that courses through him.]
user2.718: I wouldn't leave any inch of your skin untouched. user2.718: I want to learn every little thing about you. user2.718: I want to see all of you.
[ user2.718's words make Kaveh ache in the deepest part of him, and if it's declarations the other seeks, perhaps Pharos's next act will serve as the most powerful of all. With the divide between them, he can't allow the other to really explore him; and for as many things as he's told him and will continue to tell him, his online nature is something of a prison, trapping him behind walls of privacy and safety.
But he wants to see him, and that, Kaveh can oblige. ]
Give me a minute, Mister E.
[ It's a soft utterance, almost quiet enough that he can't be heard, even as he pulls the fingers from his mouth— and then stands, moving off camera for a moment. Possibly, Alhaitham will know what's happening before it happens from the shuffling and rustling he can hear, but any suspicions are confirmed in the next moment when Pharos steps back into view and takes a seat, now entirely naked except the chain hanging at his throat and the mask still carefully fixed onto his face. ]
It's not perfect, but this is the best I can do for now.
[ Oddly, he feels a little shy. For everything he's done on camera, he's never been entirely naked, showing the pale, lightly-toned skin of his abs and chest without lace of some shade covering them.
[The suspense had been killing him, a frown flitting through his brow as Pharos excused himself out of angle and he did, for once, have a moment of insecurity. Did he say anything? What's happening, where is he going? And then he comes back, fully nude but the present he gave him, sitting again, all for Mister E to see. He's fully winded while sitting at his desk. His heart is thrumming.]
[ A beautiful, genuine smile comes across Pharos's lips when Mister E tells him that he's perfection. He's certainly never thought of himself that way, and he's never believed in it when other viewers have told him as much in the past. But when Mister E says it, Kaveh knows he can believe that the other means it, isn't only saying it to get more out of him.
Somehow, that's better than believing it for himself.
There's a fresh dust of red splashed across his cheeks as he settles back properly into his chair and presses his fingers into his mouth once more, a sigh on his lips as he widens them to accept his own ministrations.
He wants to put on the best possible show he can for the other man. ]
[When Pharos smiles so brightly, Alhaitham drops his head into his hands. Rubs his face as he takes a deep breath. The shift of his hips on his seat is the only thing he does to alleviate his begging, weeping erection. Kaveh's cock glistens in the probable lighting he has set up for his streams, and his mouth runs dry.
'There,' 'I'm yours—'
Would Kaveh laugh at him, or be mortified, if he knew about his sorry state, folded over his desk? Perhaps both. Very likely both.]
user2.718: That's good. You're doing so well. user2.718: You're so beautiful. user2.718: Did you think of me like this? user2.718: Show me where you want me to touch you next.
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sempiternals2023-10-04 01:27 am
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Instead, he remembers the warmth of Kaveh's arms wrapped around his neck, the arch of his body, and how he admitted to loneliness even amidst the donations, viewers, and university popularity. Alhaitham recalls Kaveh's whispered confessions, the way he admitted to having a crush on a person he'd never seen but trusted. And despite the heated accusations that followed the morning after, he'd seen the vulnerable side of Kaveh, the side that wanted him and wrapped around him.
He takes another drag, slowly savoring the nicotine, before stubbing the cigarette out in an ashtray and refocusing on the screen. Kaveh's frustration, his anger, is palpable, and it hits Alhaitham harder than expected.]
[Alhaitham's fingers pause over the keys, remembering Kaveh's confession about the crush. He wants to reassure him that he hadn't done anything wrong, that he wasn't to blame for the events of that night. He continues typing.]
[He knows he needs to tread carefully, to not push too hard or reveal his own identity. Instead, he sticks to the facts and tries to validate Kaveh's feelings.]
[He hesitates, considering the implications of his next question, but it's necessary.]
[It's an objective question, yet he asks it with genuine concern. If Kaveh feels genuinely uncomfortable, Alhaitham would rather see him take steps to protect himself than endure unnecessary stress.]
[Alhaitham leans back again, fingers steepled together. He knows he can't undo what's already happened, but he hopes his words can provide some measure of comfort, if not clarity. There's a pang of guilt and regret, knowing he's the source of Kaveh's frustration, but he remains focused on offering support. He’s torn between the empathy of Mister E and the objectivity of Alhaitham, straddling a line that grows blurrier with each passing interaction.]
[He pauses, then types again.]
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He sighs, and bites his lip. Is he being as honest as he should? It's true that he was drunk, but in the mixed and muddled memories of the night, he does know he imagined E in Alhaitham's place, imagined he could hear that deep voice saying the sweet words that appear in text on the screen in front of him. He can't report someone when he was an all-too-willing participant, drunk or no.
After a moment, he shakes his head. ]
I can't report him... I was the one who approached him, and I know I was drunk, but...
[ His eyes close as he sighs again, and unbeknownst to him, a tear slips free to glimmer on his eyelashes, remaining in place even as his eyes open again in the next moment.
It's Mister E. He said Kaveh can tell him anything. ]
If I'm honest, Mister E, I was thinking about you. I was drunk, and horny, and as much of an asshole as he is, he's so smart, the same way you are. It made it easy for me to imagine that he... that you were... you know. [ A faint hint of pink creeps across his cheeks. ] I know that's stupid. You're a customer, I shouldn't be thinking about you like that. I'm sorry. You said I deserve to be respected but... it wasn't respectful of me to imagine you in that moment, either.
[ They've veered a little away from the rest of what user2.718 was talking about, putting boundaries in place at work, but he's not really thinking about that, right now, not when the other's kindness has caused the heaviness of guilt to weigh painfully on his chest. ]
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[He types carefully, knowing how sensitive the admission must have been for Kaveh. He leans closer to the screen, fingers flying over the keys.]
[It's not quite right, but he's not lying. As he had pressed Kaveh into the mattress in his room, he had thought about Kaveh and Pharos as an altogether entity. Alhaitham's heart quickens at the honesty of his words, at how close they come to revealing the truth of that night. He continues typing.]
[He pauses, remembering when Kaveh wrapped his arms around him. The kiss had been impulsive, heated, and filled with the kind of passion he never expected. And though he can't say it outright, he hopes this next part will convey his understanding.]
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Oh.
[ There's a lot to take away from what the other has said. There's the jealousy, for one, the strange churn in his stomach at the thought of someone else having the chance to be with his Mister E. But also the knowledge, bittersweet, that the other thought of him in much the same way he did. And he wonders what Mister E would be like as a lover... surely, he thinks, as gentle and thoughtful as he is in text, all guiding hands and searching kisses, and—
That pink darkens on his cheeks, Pharos biting his lip as he looks quietly into the camera for a moment or two. There's a part of him desperate to take off his mask, to let Mister E see the whole of his face, the person he really is. But being a teacher of all things holds him back— he trusts Mister E, but all it would take is a single leaked image...
Instead, he fiddles with the necklace, something that's apparently a habit of his when he's feeling a little nervous, and runs fingers through his hair as he laughs breathlessly. ]
I want—
[ And oh, how dangerously close he comes to saying he wants to meet him. (Tighnari is going to kill him...!) Kaveh takes a breath, steadies himself. ]
Remember when you asked if I've ever suffered from basorexia? I'm suffering from it right now, Mister E.
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He recalls their interactions at work, and how the dynamic shifts when they become user2.718 and Pharos. The difference is stark, and he realizes that despite his mastery of language and rhetoric, there is an undeniable gap that can only be bridged through this digital persona.
But now, hearing Kaveh's admission that he wants to kiss him and is suffering from basorexia, Alhaitham feels a pang of longing. His fingers hover over the keyboard, contemplating the implications of revealing his identity. Could Kaveh handle it? Could he? Would it lead to the connection they both long for, or would it shatter everything they've built?
The risk is too high. Even as a streamer and viewer, it's not a step to take lightly. They both need this space, this comfort, and it's something Alhaitham can't jeopardize. Kaveh needs this more than he does.]
[It's the truth, after all. Despite the complicated nature of their connection, Alhaitham knows his feelings are genuine, and he wants Kaveh to understand that he's not alone in this yearning.
He pauses, considering how to balance vulnerability and reassurance. He doesn't want to overpromise, nor does he want Kaveh to feel pressured.]
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[ His voice is a little softer than he would like, the vulnerability creeping in despite his best efforts even as the other offers him comfort and assurance that he's not alone in his feelings. The whole thing feels like a mess of epic proportions, like a maze that he just can't find his way out of no matter how hard he tries. He's tied them up in a never-ending rope and now he can't unpick the knots, and—
Gods, Kaveh's not sure he's ever wanted someone so much, and they haven't even met—
(But what if they met?) ]
...You should pick one of my toys.
[ The statement comes out abruptly, sounding perhaps like it was said instead of something else waiting on the tip of his tongue
(because it was, because all Kaveh can think about is wanting to take off his mask, wanting to meet him in person, wanting to do something so totally unsafe it's not even worth dreaming about)
and he gestures to the collection placed, as usual, along the desk in front of him. His smile, even as it trembles, is real. ]
I'll give you a good show, Mister E. You can fuck me however you want.
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But Alhaitham can’t ignore the longing that settles deep in his chest. He knows it's not just the thrill of the performance or the allure of the fantasy. It's Kaveh, the person behind the mask. The one who challenges him intellectually and emotionally. The one who frustrates him and fascinates him in equal measure. Alhaitham knows he’s pining for Kaveh just as much as Pharos yearns for Mister E.
His desire to close the distance between them remains, but he knows this is the best way to protect what they have. He takes a breath, accepting that this virtual intimacy, however fragmented and complicated, will have to be enough.]
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(After all, Mister E says he's not alone in this, but there's no way he understands how readily Kaveh has thrown himself into these feelings, how often he thinks about him, how dangerously attached he has so quickly become.)
He's not quite expecting the answer he's given, his brows rising and his already-pink cheeks heating a little more, and he can't help the way a smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he shakes his head. ] You want me to give you a show today, huh? [ he says, and there's a tease in his voice. Of course, everything he does is a show for Mister E, but he remembers last time, pretending the toy was the man himself, talking about taking him deep and letting him cum inside— Not this time.
That smile stays on his lips as he gently lubes the ring and slips it on, twisting slightly so his single viewer can see the way it wraps his cock and balls before settling back on his seat, making sure he's giving a good view of his ass as he spreads his legs and lubes up his fingers too. ]
I'll give you the best show, Mister E. Tell me how you want me to do it.
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[Well, this is definitely familiar, something they've done before. This is what Pharos has done plenty of other streams, as well, for his viewers, not for user2.718, not for the special Mister E—he shouldn't love that nickname so much, but here he is, feeling a thrum under his ribcage that gets him to itch to his cigarette pack, or through the screen.
But he knows Pharos now, he knows Kaveh, the person behind the persona. He remembers the sadness in his voice behind the anger directed at him, the frustration at Alhaitham not needing to be pleased, to welcome attrition, to embrace the bad of Kaveh that he's so not used to give.
Because it's the gist of it all, isn't it? They're both frustrated. He wonders if aside from the monetary need, if Pharos came to be because Kaveh was so, so tired of his own frustration. Tired of being tired.
He remembers how lonely his fingers had felt as they gripped at his back.]
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think of me caressing you, the screen says, and Kaveh's reasonably sure that his heart does the impossible and skips several beats. He smiles sweetly, and his hands lift, eyes closing briefly as they touch one side of his face and then the other, fingers dragging against the skin before coming to cradle his own cheeks the way he imagines Mister E would, treating him with the gentleness he craves so badly.
What he doesn't realize is that he's been held like this before,
and by Alhaitham, of all people.
His eyes open, a small smile on his lips as one thumb swipes over them, mimicking actions he can so clearly imagine the other taking. ]
Mm.. like this?
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[Exactly. Exactly like that. Alhaitham knows how much he wanted to do the same, how he did the same, holding Kaveh's face between his hands and stroking his lips before he kissed him, slow and deep and feeding into his need like oil in a flame, flaring uncontrollably.
Of course, it only means for Kaveh that it felt good, to be touched in the same way, it would be only natural to find himself wanting it again. He holds Mister E in such a high regard, that he knows he'd touch him in a way that would please Pharos.
The layers to this are immense and numerous. Pharos wishes for Mister E to touch him in the way that Alhaitham touched Kaveh. Only that Pharos doesn't know that they're both the same person. It would feel almost silly if Alhaitham wasn't aware that he barely revealed anything about himself as user2.718.]
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[ His content is a pleased sigh, eyes soft and dreamy as they meet the camera's lens, as his fingers keep tracing over his own skin in all the ways Alhaitham did during their short time together. It's not deliberate at all; in fact, with his attention so focused on what Mister E is asking of him, he doesn't realize that he's doing it. But he's been touched like this before, and he liked it more than he realizes.
Maybe it's because of the gentleness inherent in the act; perhaps instead if's who it was, or who he dreamed it might be.
Maybe, deep down, it's all of the above.
He smiles at user2.718's continued statements, nods his acknowledgement— he does like it— and his eyes close briefly once more, teeth pressing into his lower lip in response to the phantom sensation of an imagined kiss. He sighs again, and nods. ]
Yeah.. I can imagine it. How do you kiss, Mister E? Are you gentle? Or do you like to take charge?
[ Even as he asks it, his eyes open to see the next question, and his smile broadens slightly; he answers with the movement of his hands, one lifting up to thread in his own hair as the other moves to cup at the side of his neck. He hums again at the soft sensation. It's easy to imagine his hands are the other's, touching and exploring him as he wants. ]
Like this.
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[Although most of the kisses they had shared were hot, heavy, some of the care on Alhaitham's fingers had translated into softness, but also moving Kaveh's eagerness around into something smoother, yet still heady. He needs to take a deep breath at the sight of Pharos so beautifully blissful at his imagination, at the memory of how difficult it was for him to expand his lungs to draw in air, when he only wanted to dive back into Kaveh's lips.
He swallows something hard in his throat.]
[He chews on his lip thoughtfully. Then sends a message that may make the fantasy go a bit further.]
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Mm... today I think I want you to be soft, [ he whispers. ] Prove that he's wrong about you.
[ Of course, he hasn't told Mister E what Alhaitham said about him, but he's not thinking about that right now. He's too distracted, leaning back harder into his chair and shuffling slightly as if getting comfortable against another person, biting his lip at the phantom sensation of words in his ear, pleasured shivers rushing down his spine. ]
I can. Mister E, are you starting to get hard? Or is my imagination just going overtime, hm?
[ A soft laugh, and then as the other asks his last question, Kaveh imagining the words breathed into his ear, he adds: ]
Would you play with my piercing a little? And... mm, and maybe tease me a little.
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['To prove that he's wrong', there are so many odd things about that statement. One, that Alhaitham is not wrong about Mister E, not exactly. Just because the bar is on the floor doesn't mean that the benchmark that he settles isn't low. And secondly, that Kaveh would defend a stranger so adamantly, for the sake of an image of the person that he thinks E is.
He takes a deep breath.
It's not an entire leap to imagine Kaveh writhing on top of him, leaning back, the planes of his chest arching with gasps and sighs as he arches further into him, the tension to his spine as Alhaitham whispered into his ear.
Pharos, he needs to remind himself. This is Pharos. And he's Mister E.
It pangs on his chest harder than he'd like. But all he can do for now is accept that.
His fingers fly over the keyboard.]
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(In reality, perhaps it's not even that he thinks so highly of Mister E— but more how lowly he thinks of himself.)
He's obedient, pinching at the piercing and then hissing softly as his chest arches into it, a shake of his head as his eyes seek the camera once more. ]
Mm, it doesn't really hurt. It feels good, Mister E. But.. honestly, everything you do feels good. Even you just caressing my face and kissing me... it's not that weird that I'm starting to get hard, right?
[ His laugh is sweet, breathless as he defends himself, as he lowers the same hand to his knee and starts so slowly to stroke over his own thigh, still leaning back to make sure his Mister E has the best possible view of him as he does. White fingerprints appear briefly in the skin as he squeezes and kneads, and as his hand creeps higher he sighs, biting his lip and letting his eyes flutter closed again. ]
Mm, this would be easier if I could hear you for real, [ he laughs softly in the next moment, eyes opening again. ] Everything you're doing is so good I keep forgetting and closing my eyes.
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And isn't that the strongest of aphrodisiacs, that exploration?]
[Dangerous, dangerous grounds. Who is Pharos really imagining there?
(Does it matter?)]
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Okay.
[ His voice is a whisper as his eyes close again, the fingers of that single hand continuing their teasing and tormenting of the skin so close to his own growing erection, kneading and exploring up and down each side one after the other, coming so close to touching himself without actually allowing himself the pleasure.
His other hand slides out of his hair, anchoring at his chest, toying and playing with the piercing until he's writhing under his own ministrations, breath short and sharp. And he's imagining it, imagining Mister E doing all of these things to him, for him, even if his brain transposes imagined sensation with feelings he's genuinely been granted at the hands of another—
His eyes open again as he whines softly under his own touch. ]
Mister E, will you touch me? Please?
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[Many authors have written both prose and poetry about how worship and devotion was not without some sacrifice, not without some pain. Some parts of religion focus on that very side of things, which Alhaitham was forever a critic of.
Yet, seeing Pharos writhe under his fingers, and yet still yearning, voice and face contorted into pleasure, softening some of his features into rapture, deepening others as he navigates the heat within him. Alhaitham is not there, in Pharos’ streaming room, but he feels warm like Kaveh were to tilt his head and breathe into Alhaitham.
He’s reminded of statues, entangled together, their artists meticulously ensuring the characters’ fingers digging in a way their flesh bends, like they were the very same pads digging into the give of a softened material.
It struck him as odd, the idea of coveting those which you already have, and yet, now, he knows that he’d crave this man no matter how long he had him.
Maybe it’s a good thing he hates his guts.]
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(Because even in the face of his crush is Mister E a figure insurmountable as much as he desired; someone with his wealth must have his life together in a way Kaveh doesn't, a way Kaveh can only dream; in the real world he probably wouldn't even look at him twice—)
Perhaps that's why he's so eager, nodding as he lifts his hand from his leg and sucks two fingers into his mouth. It's sloppy, the way he fucks his own mouth with them, tongue and lips working to wet them thoroughly, until the saliva is all but dripping messily from both mouth and fingers, his cock visibly twitching, straining in aching desire.
He'll do anything the other asks of him— and right now, he wants to make sure he has a good view as Pharos completes his request. ]
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[The notion of unattainability sharpens this yearning into something almost exquisite in its pain. Kaveh sees Mister E as someone lofty, unattainable, an ideal figure carved from the very echelons of societal perfection that he himself feels so alienated from. It's an ironic mirroring of their real-world interactions, where Alhaitham is the unwanted intruder in Kaveh's well-ordered life and decisions, the critic who unwittingly wounds even as he seeks closeness.
Alhaitham is struck by the poignant beauty of his longing. The physical distance between them—a screen, miles, perhaps an entire world—magnifies every small act into a declaration, every whispered word into a confession. This digital divide, this relentless barrier, serves as sanctuary and prison both. It allows Alhaitham to worship without the messiness of reality intruding, to adore without the fear of rejection that daylight might bring. It allows Kaveh to free from inhibitions that he would place upon himself on his own. He can imagine that they are equals, that the vast gulf of their differences in status and security does not exist.
Alhaitham's mind wanders to the statues and paintings of old, where the yearning was palpable, the subjects forever frozen in a moment of eternal want. He feels akin to those figures now, caught in an everlasting reach towards something he can never fully grasp. And yet, there is beauty in the yearning itself, in the pure, unbridled desire that courses through him.]
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But he wants to see him, and that, Kaveh can oblige. ]
Give me a minute, Mister E.
[ It's a soft utterance, almost quiet enough that he can't be heard, even as he pulls the fingers from his mouth— and then stands, moving off camera for a moment. Possibly, Alhaitham will know what's happening before it happens from the shuffling and rustling he can hear, but any suspicions are confirmed in the next moment when Pharos steps back into view and takes a seat, now entirely naked except the chain hanging at his throat and the mask still carefully fixed onto his face. ]
It's not perfect, but this is the best I can do for now.
[ Oddly, he feels a little shy. For everything he's done on camera, he's never been entirely naked, showing the pale, lightly-toned skin of his abs and chest without lace of some shade covering them.
His fingers lift, tracing his swollen lips. ]
Should I continue..?
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[The suspense had been killing him, a frown flitting through his brow as Pharos excused himself out of angle and he did, for once, have a moment of insecurity. Did he say anything? What's happening, where is he going? And then he comes back, fully nude but the present he gave him, sitting again, all for Mister E to see.
He's fully winded while sitting at his desk. His heart is thrumming.]
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Somehow, that's better than believing it for himself.
There's a fresh dust of red splashed across his cheeks as he settles back properly into his chair and presses his fingers into his mouth once more, a sigh on his lips as he widens them to accept his own ministrations.
He wants to put on the best possible show he can for the other man. ]
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'There,' 'I'm yours—'
Would Kaveh laugh at him, or be mortified, if he knew about his sorry state, folded over his desk? Perhaps both. Very likely both.]
user2.718: That's good. You're doing so well.
user2.718: You're so beautiful.
user2.718: Did you think of me like this?
user2.718: Show me where you want me to touch you next.
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